


with an ocean in the way

by brodinsons (aeon_entwined)



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: (as in: merjean/javert), Frottage, M/M, Outdoor Sex, merman/human sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeon_entwined/pseuds/brodinsons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valjean is a merman. He can take said form at will when in/near water. This little snippet is sort of a post-Seine established relationship thing where after being rescued by Valjean, Javert's gotten over his initial weirded out-ness and is now rather infatuated with both Valjean's forms. <a href="http://breadsports.tumblr.com/post/48315772228">Based on this magnificent artwork</a>. (NSFW)</p>
            </blockquote>





	with an ocean in the way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tvglow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvglow/gifts).



"You are patently ridiculous."

Javert smirks to himself, but continues stroking deft fingers over the shimmering scales covering Valjean's lower half.

"I do believe you said yourself that is one of your favored qualities of mine," he replies idly, slowing his movements to rub the pad of his thumb against the just-visible slit hidden amongst the vast collection of reflective scales on Valjean's groin (or, rather, where his groin would be if he were inhabiting his human shape).

Valjean hisses quietly, a shiver traveling the length of his powerful tail.

Javert continues his ministrations, observing with a practiced air the way the flesh beneath the scales begins to swell beneath his fingertips, gradually parting.

There's a low rumble of sound from Valjean, and Javert glances up to see his companion slightly breathless, eyes wide and pupils gradually swallowing the hazel irises.

Javert smiles, then returns to his task, rubbing patiently at the surprisingly warm flesh until the head of Valjean's prick emerges from the slit, flushed a healthy pink with a bit of his prespending beading at the tip.

"I do believe you want something," Javert guesses, keeping his tone casual and unaffected.

Valjean growls at him, the sound vibrating through the air between them. His gills flare outward and Javert finds his attention arrested.

Since the first time Valjean allowed him into the water at the same time after his recovery, Javert has found within himself a bizarre fascination for the addition to Valjean's anatomy.

They are remarkably sensitive, but also surprisingly strong. He would never touch more than Valjean allowed, but he craves to touch now.

Javert abandons his partner's cock for the moment and crawls upward, slinging a leg over Valjean's waist to straddle him properly.

They stare at one another as Javert lifts a hand to stroke the pads of his fingers over the fluttering gills, neither willing to break eye contact.

Then, Valjean's eyes slip closed and Javert seizes his chance.

He presses forward, relishing the sensation of Valjean's muscles going lax as he reclines onto the grassy bank. His left hand curls over Valjean's shoulder, while the other shifts beneath Valjean's left arm to cradle the back of his head, his thumb stroking over the edges of his gills.

"I still cannot believe you aren't repulsed by this."

Valjean is slightly breathless, his voice pitched lower than normal and his gills fluttering rapidly as he pants for air. His tail is moving too; flexing and twisting against Javert's legs, sending water droplets everywhere when the flukes hit the surface of the water.

Javert makes a dismissive sound, lowering his head to press wet, open-mouthed kisses against the slick flesh around Valjean's gills. The man ( _not a beast, never a beast, never again_ ) shudders and arches against him, breathing gone shallow and harsh.

"Nothing about you can ever repulse me."

He digs his fingers into the solid muscle of Valjean's shoulder, then rocks his hips down as Valjean's tail continues thrashing and twining against his legs. Valjean's cock is a rigid line of flesh against the cleft of his buttocks, fully erect and already leaking prespending against his skin.

Valjean moans as Javert begins riding him, rolling his hips at a steady pace and grinding himself against the line of his cock while arching back to rub his own arousal against Valjean's firm belly.

Javert rocks his hips at a faster tempo, and is rewarded as Valjean's tail thrashes violently beneath him, nearly unseating him. He clenches his thighs against Valjean's waist, holding on as a rider would astride his mount without the aid of a saddle.

Valjean's left hand finds its way to the back of his head, the strong fingers twisting in his short hair and prompting a soft whine. The right curls against his knee, alternately petting and squeezing him there as though trying to convey his appreciation without words.

"Javert..."

Javert kisses his partner's throat again, then moves to Valjean's mouth, smearing his lips across the smooth line of his jaw in order to do so.

"Now, bien-aimé."

As if that single word is all he required, Valjean's entire body convulses. His tail thrashes again, nearly bucking Javert off his waist as he shudders and spends himself, his seed slicking the cleft between Javert's buttocks.

While Valjean lies stunned and wrung out beneath him, gills flaring as he struggles to regain his breath, Javert begins thrusting against the firm plane of his stomach in search of his own relief.

He mouths at the line of Valjean's jaw as he moves, helpless little sounds working their way free of his throat as his aching cock rubs against the strange mixture of warm flesh and cool scales where Valjean's abdomen becomes his groin.

Finally, the slow-building pleasure crests and his senses flare into white noise. For long moments, he knows nothing but the blinding pleasure of spilling his release between their bellies.

When he eventually regains his senses, Javert finds his cheek pillowed on Valjean's shoulder with Valjean's fingers once again in his hair, stroking him as a parent would an exhausted child. He hums low in his throat, then nuzzles beneath Valjean's chin.

The gills have disappeared, and he gradually becomes aware of the pressure of two legs twined with his own. The pressure is comfortable, familiar. They have long grown used to sharing the same bed, and often find themselves tangled up in each other upon waking in the mornings. It's a far more enjoyable way to wake than Javert deins to acknowledge.

Javert smiles to himself, still amused to this day by Valjean's innate shyness. Though he is getting better. He scarcely would have allowed anything close to this at the start. In fact, he would rarely allow Javert to even _look_ at his silver-scaled tail before either shifting back to his mortal shape or plunging into whatever body of whatever they'd ventured to and refusing to come out until Javert had turned his back.

For now, Javert contents himself with a slow tasting of Valjean's throat. That earns him a low rumble of a growl, and he chuckles softly. He offers a few gentle strokes of the pad of his thumb over where Valjean's gills would be in affectionate apology.

Perhaps they are both improving.


End file.
